Of Wood And Flesh
by Viburnum
Summary: Shyaron is a drug addict who has lost all hope in life until he receives a mysterious doll who turns out to be a sealed girl called Sakura. Sakura wishes to lift a curse from her body and Li gets tangled up in her quest. Will both find their truths?


**We all know that the original story of Card Captor Sakura is owned by Clamp which they stole from me! You hear me Clamp I'll sue you! – Ok, I 'm just kidding.**

**Warning: This story has some graphic scenes and language. It also depicts substance abuse to some extents and scenes of uncensored violence. This is a warning. **

* * *

_**Of Wood And Flesh  
I  
The Rooted Sin **_

* * *

They say to love life too much is to be the ultimate addiction of the worst kind. For Shyaron Li the term applied. Promiscuous, alcoholic, masochistic and drug-addiction played a role in his entirety. Luckily, for him, there was no one around to care for him too much to consider the idea of rehabilitation. 

' You say the word for me Baby  
Open Roads open sunshine palaces  
No more closed gates for you;  
The garden is now for you to water to.'

Shyaron Li loved singing his invented song after injecting the sweet paradise of heroin into his body. He was all raptures then and after the euphoria ceased he would feel inclined to consume more. The poor pup knew that he was cheating himself by wasting in the madness of such cataclysms of substances, but, he felt he had no other way. He was scrawny, his hair a greasy, dull hue of a dirty brown and his lips pallid from his stimulated moods. He wore lanky clothes and had rejected his academic pursuits for the lifestyle of the dead. No one questioned his reasons but his purpose was identical to many to whom he registered as friends. They would converse inaudibly on hypothesizes that had no meaning whatsoever – the scholars of the rotting, dysfunctional brains. And then they would go out to the world to plant seeds in the forests of fornication. Where the women too were their breed, prostitution ran rampant among his male and female associates; for there was money to be made and paradises the mind could envision. Shyaron was the wisest fool who knew the secret: visionary may not last for long. This decayed illusion that chooses to call itself life will perish along with betrayed bones and ailing organs who screamed at the unwanted, unjust punishment of lethal "pleasures".

' Li, Li, the police!' cried a female frantically pulling him. She wore a crimson leather mini skirt and a black turtleneck – no, wait, an exquisite laced bra of midnight – her top was on the far corner and her bra was partially unclasped.

' Wait go away Li.' Shyaron protested, inebriated by drugs and alcohol and tasted the remnants of "paradise" in his tongue and allowed his wasted sleep to continue. He was incoherent to the girl's panic.

' Bastard! I don't want the cops to catch me!' she punched him in the face and got his attention as she efficiently used to haul him and rescue him from imprisonment. When they went home his coherency allowed him his sex with her: A boy of twenty so foolish to engage in activities for the heartless and lifeless.

* * *

Eyes open as they should as the showers of light squeeze through the glass of dirty, unwashed windows of his abode. A two room apartment of sorts; small, humble, not clean, not so pleasant, the entrepreneur shows her no kindness. For, he cannot show sweetness to himself. 

'Uh…huh…nah…ummm…ouch…' incoherently, audibly he creates a sense of misshapen thoughts of a swooning mind frozen from logic. He stutters and few more "oh"s and "ah"s and "eep"s echoes throughout the silent room.

' Why is the bed so cold!' the young man screams and awakens – his tousled hair and disheveled body can only portray a hollow voice. This man possessed beauty once. ' Oh.' He saw his predicament ' I'm on the floor.' Speaking to no one but himself…or was he…? ' Meiling you awake.'

It wasn't really a question. He saw her asleep. Unconscious the better term: her face scrunched slightly as if she panicked nausea would follow her. Her eyelids fluttered as bumble bees before finally opening, ' Huh…' she startled as if the surroundings were unclear, ' Where…am – Shyaron!' she spotted him on the floor, strewn in his nudity, ' What-?' the night recapped, ' Oh dear…' she put a hand to her face, ' We made love again…' she let her hand slide downwards on the bed, ' I prefer you without intoxication…' she smiled and slowly edged towards the be, bending down, cupping his hand partially with one hand – an expected kiss.

' So do most men and women who know me…' the kiss must be denied as he got up from her affections and walked towards the bottle of gin resting on the poor imitation of a study-desk nearby: it was filled with empty, half-empty bottles of hard liquor and cigarette packs; An unhealthy education indeed.

' It isn't happy hour yet.' A slight warning, her lips pursed and her tone with a small tinge of indignation. Her shoulders hunched almost like a panther, readying to strike, to molest flesh, to some a crazed panther but to wisdom a fateful pet.

' Well the poets call the mornings a gay hour.' He sunk the bottle in and drank as if he was a child to bottled milk. The sight was most perturbing.

' Poets also define "morning" with "mourning"…' she walked near him in her full nakedness and snatched the bottle, ' Breakfast consists on finer, milder things…'

' You expect me to eat?' an addicted man full of astonishment: Shyaron Li looked blissfully ignorant. Unfortunately, the price of pleasure was too high: it needed life, to drain away and drain until no drop existed: This woman was intent to change the path.

' Most animals search for breakfast…' she threw the bottle on an already filled up bin as she nonchalantly instructed avoiding his melancholic face and disallowing him from retrieving his poison, ' Shyaron hands off!'

' Dammit Meiling you're not my wife you know!' he almost swore, to her it was a curse as she moved aside he took out the disposed bottle and started drinking again, ' By the By aren't you gonna go home?'

Meiling yelled in anger and kicked the bottle which broke – rendering it completely useless. She grabbed him by his shoulders and picked him up from the floor, ' We are supposed to be wed Shyaron – if you hadn't done all these things – now they are looking for a new fiancée for me!' she breathed hard and looked down, counting tens as he stared, mesmerized as much as his hangover would allow him vision. She calmed and smiled, ' Don't worry sweetheart.' She kissed him, ' My heart belongs to you. When we patch things up everything will go our way.'

' Do you love me?' he popped it in a silvery tone as if he handed her the engagement ring. Despite the circumstances he pushed the stupor aside and attempted to eloquent so he may avoid sounding like a madman.

' Yes, of course, love.' She kissed him passionately with her tongue plummeting into most exquisite vaults where ardency lived.

' But, I do not think I love you.' The tongue, was withdrawn, Shyaron looked distant and Meiling with a gaze of disbelief.

She smiled hastily and planted, hard but meaningful kisses to his lips, ' There, there,' she nursed him in her arms like a toddler, ' Mustn't let the alcohol scramble your brains!' she kissed with a hopeless fevering force but it was quite a damned, placebo of a medicine for his addiction.

He touched her wrist soft so she may cup his face no more, ' No Meiling…' he lowered the wrist down, ' This wasn't right to begin with…I think you knew it but…you thought our intimacy may change…I'm sorry…I-'

BOOM! A canon! No a free hand! His weakened, anorexic state downed by the healthy swing – Meiling has slapped him!

' You can't do this to me!' she screamed as she broke bottles and Shyaron covered his head as their pieces could wound, too frightened by the weakened state of his addicted body to help to control the situation, ' We are more than cousins! We're lovers!' she broke the wooden chair next, ' Lovers!'

' Meiling stop!' Shyaron had crawled towards the corner of the room. Huddled in an almost absent-minded stare but the noise become too much covered with impact. His infantile, fragile tone gave the puppy-yelp. He was too unsure now.

' I'm sorry…' she weeps and then comes forward to embrace him, ' Shyaron…' she calls to him softly.

' Leave.' His instruction is clear, he looks at the wooden floor, his eyes wet with disappointment and fear – he is the crumbled man, the child who is not strong yet. He knows he had not expected this. ' Please don't come again…' he looks up at her now with those glistening pretty balls of mud, ' Unless we unite again which means a mistake. The whole issue of sex is a mistake.' He now has an endearing expression towards her, ' I don't think so this could ever work out…Meiling please forgive me.'

' Forgive you.' She could have hissed but she was slightly livid and before she could control herself she slapped Shyaron once again, ' Shyaron I will come back and we will have a future together!'

His cheek hurt by the contact but he felt he was being bullied; this horrid, demanding tone reminding him of his father and mother, and he did not like it. His gaze now was a bored, indifferent and annoyed sort that made Meiling uneasy. ' No.' he drawled it out, ' I can never have a future with you.' There, was the conclusion.

There was hopelessness on her now; the chirpy radiance became dismantled as if it were only a mechanic object. She fears, there is something upon her face that emphasizes the cut. It is a dagger wound or maybe of the kind that can pierce her eyes and make her seem to be crying blood. She can no longer enforce her anger on this man tainted by chemical obsessions. Has she lost her hold on him? Was she manipulating him or was it a different kind of seduction? Basically, she had done a unjust deed. To help a man was one thing; to expect his love was another. She shouldn't have fawned on him when he needed comfort and then thought his lust could buy love. Love is not as simple as it happens to some. To find one's true love is a voyage over seas and oceans: to find that special person requires more than just a singular reason of "like like". She was fool to believe he could love her if she could take his skin and melt it with her own. But, there is a determination. She really does not want to give up.

' I'll see you.' It's a temporary goodbye but promises a distance that will be a long period. She needs to assemble herself once again.

Shyaron left alone to his own devices, drinks and then the nausea becomes unbearable. He vomits uncontrollably on the wooden floor.

* * *

' See she says she wants me to give the kid something…' the young man around seventeen smokes into Shyaron's face and the twenty-year old coughed horribly, ' Got any cash I can borrow Li. I'll pay you back with stock.' 

' You shitin' me.' Shyaron swears and snatches the cigarette away from the lad and takes a good puff despite the itchy feeling all over ' Last time you say that I needed to borrow from Louis that American prick who lives down below.'

' Louis, no…' the boy sighs in a disbelieving fashion, ' Heard he ain't the giving type.'

' And a racist too…' Shyaron looks over his arm, ' Beat me up, called me a Jap-dog…' saw the red mark on right, usually it stays hidden as he wears long sleeves, ' Then gave me some shit out of sympathy: Genuine white-trash that motherfucker.'

' Listen Li, ain't you gonna make some punk ass comments on white folks…' the boy snatches away the cigarette, his rightful possession, ' How come that bastard racist come all the way over from States to Japan if he don't like Japanese?'

' Works for a big-ass corporation I reckon…' Shyaron idly stares at the children in the playground. They were near the monkey bars and fagging, the police would catch them for sure if carelessness was allowed, ' Does business on the side to feed of this fine looking mistress.'

' She Japanese?' the boy exhaled again into his face and decided to not do it once more seeing Shyaron irked.

' No, she's a Brit-chick.' Shyaron snatched the cigarette again, ' Anyway I can't believe Ryoko allowed to come to her birthday. She hates your guts.'

' I'm the one who sired the cute little thing: Sonomi is a cutesy little brat. She likes me, not like her bitchy mother. You expect that broad to love me now that we got a kid.' The boy tries to take the cigarette back as his moody, chirpy tone kicks in.

' Shuya, how old is Sonomi?' Shyaron asked suddenly with certain dullness.

' Gonna become three. She's a smart kid; Takes after her old man after all.' The seventeen year old father, Shuya, snickers in a euphoric delight which is natural for a father. Unfortunately, it feels bizarre around him.

Shyaron intensifies his gaze on his cancer-stick and slowly watched it burn with a fiery, malevolent, diseased fashion. To Shuya, he lifts his eyes, ' No she doesn't Shuya.' The message is clear. They were sans brilliance. Two messy peas in an infected pod.

' Hey Mister can I have that?' a boy almost comes poking his hand at the cigarette.

' Beat it you little bastard!' Shuya, all of a sudden incensed, screams at the innocuous toddler.

' Shuya, keep it down.' Shyaron spots a group of mothers looking at them now: paying attention to their behaviors and by their emaciated forms they had been labeled "addicts" by close observers. Keep calm and collected or else the disruption may pull down the storms.

The toddler, unable to register why the man screamed so violently, did his best to commute in some way his expression, ' Mommy!' he cried with his little lungs expanding as siren's from the ancient times.

' Keep it down kid!' Shuya panicked as he saw one of the women, certainly the child's mother, looked their way.

' I'll cut you a deal Shuya…' Shyaron spoke rapidly, as he saw the descent of the Valkyrie towards them, ' If you can make this kid laugh I'll buy something Sonomi can like.'

' What…?' dumbfounded, Shuya looked at him incredulously and keeping a frantic eye on the child who was yelling harder now.

' Is a deal?' the Valkyrie was coming, ' I'll take care of mommy.' Shyaron walked towards the lady, ' Ok?' he turned back.

' Ok, Ok.' Shuya decided, ' Hey Kid.' The child looked at him, ' Ogamugamuga.' He did a variety of faces and the child went from sobs to giggles.

' What's going on here?' The lady came forward and was intercepted by Shyaron.

' Your child wanted our smoke Ma'am.' Shyaron spoke with his refinement, his high tutelage present in his tone, ' When we told he couldn't have it he got upset.'

' I see.' The lady looked hard at him then saw Shuya making the child laugh, ' I better not catch you two again here.' It was a command.

' We were just leaving. C'mon man.' He referred to Shuya as he politely gave a nod to the woman and left with his buddy.

' Li, Shyaron – please make it something nice.' There was a certain desperation in his tone as they left the park. The child had sparked something inside Shuya, ' Please.' He was almost tearful now, ' I want to be a part of Sonomi's life.'

' Then you must give up this "Eden" you live in.' Shyaron walked his separate way and reminiscence of the precious belongings he had abandoned for this purgatory.

* * *

As he walked up the stairs to his apartment he felt the chills of nostalgia appear. Walking up the stairs…in his own home…ah…that was yesterday…and yesterday was exiled as well as him. He wouldn't benefit from any remembrance. The sorrow was deep, rooted well and itself became murky for his rooted sin: his addiction, his "little paradise" – well…if only he could… 

CRASH!

He looked puzzled as he saw a door break and a woman being flung out on the floor. He was too numbed by shock to do much accepting the fact to stare at the fallen Caucasian angel who was whimpering and her nightgown seemed torn at one side.

' What ya mean you leaving you filthy whore!' a man appeared now with a cane in his hand, Shyaron was instantly alarmed, ' Gonna screw 'yer way out of this land back to your Queen and country.' He looked maliciously at her, ' You're leaving when I am! Understood!'; he picked the wooden snake ready to strike.

' Louis no!' she screamed powerlessly as the cane was dropped on her.

Only…she felt no pain…was her body so damaged that –

' Mongrel.' Her closed eyes opened at the venomous curse as she looked up she saw brown eyes scrunched in agony but smiling lips. ' What ya want! Stay outta it!' Louis pushed him aside and Shyaron hit a wall. He slouched down as some blood spilled forth his mouth. The impact was heavy.

' Louis leave!' the young woman stabbed his groin with her feet (her kick could be compared to a knife) and she saw him fall, ' Leave or else I'll call the police!'

' Bloody whore! All you bitches are alike!' He screamed and slapped her hard before going down the stairs.

' Asshole!' she screamed as she threw his cane at him.

It hit him as he looked dangerously at her, ' Mind your temper precious, just mind it.' He wasn't in the mood for a squabble for he departed immediately.

The young woman hurried towards her fallen knight, ' Are…are you alright?!'

' Yes…' Shyaron trembled as he stood, he was going to wipe the blood when the woman lifted her gown a bit so she may wipe it with the corners, ' Ma'am you don't need to-'

' It's ok.' She wiped it with a jubilant tone, ' Can you believe it?' she had her eyes cast at the back of her mind, ' Louis was married and I never knew it.'

' You didn't. I thought you know and were his mistress.' The words escaped before control could be put on them. Seeing her weakened face made Shyaron sorrowful, ' I'm sorry…it's just most of us…knew…I…'

' Its ok.' She had a soft smile, ' Louis was no good anyway, I'm planning on leaving him. He comes to Japan once in a year and lives with me in this shabby get-up. I wouldn't have come here but I lived here for almost two years but now I can leave. I found out of Louis's wife right some moments ago. I guess I was putting blind trust on a man who I thought loved me at least as a friend.'

' I'm truly sorry…' he comforted her, ' At least…' he smiled, ' You may not have to meet him anymore.'

' You're right.' She sighs, ' So, do you live on the floor above?'

' Yeah I do.' He replied as he rubbed his head. He was lost in thoughts for a while.

' What are you thinking?' she asked with a hint of concern.

' Uh…what…?...Oh I'm just, my friend's daughter, Sonomi, she's becoming three this week. I promised to go pick up a gift for her…' he rubbed his head harder now, ' But I can't seem to decide what to buy her!' he almost whined in the frustration allowing the woman to laugh.

' Well, why did you decided to go for it then?' she comically inquired as he saw him sheepishly staring into space.

' I don't know…' there was a certain sadness in his voice, ' I just haven't bought a gift for someone in I guess four years.' He looked down on the floor, ' I just wanted to do something that wasn't so dysfunctional.'

She sorrowfully gazed at him. There was iron weight to his sorrow. It could paralyze him with misery. She saw his eyes half-closed as if they were fully cognizant he would shed an awful measure of tears. She sympathized with him with a great depth. One she had not done before. ' You know what?' she chirped catching his undivided concentration, ' We aren't introduced yet – I'm Valerie Coldstone – I'm from London and you…?'

' Shyaron Li…I'm actually not Japanese but Louis thinks so…' he laughs at the last statement.

' Where you from Shyaron…I can call you Shyaron can't I?' she was very excited in knowing the brave young man.

' Yes, and I'm from Hong Kong.' He smiled, ' I have been living in Japan for four years.'

' For four years – by yourself I suppose…' she calmly went to the personal. This boy surely had no surety in the section of family.

' Yeah, by myself, my…family is still over there.' He softly answered taking some seconds in the memories. So close but the distance was a reality as well.

' Don't worry…' she took his hand, ' You'll see them again.' She was very caring as a part of her knew the misery within his form.

' I highly doubt it.' He looked sad but he gave her a gratitude-filled expression. A kind woman meant diamonds in his world.

' You know what I think Sonomi, that's her name right?' she suddenly approached with a strong stamina.

' Yes, Sonomi, uh, what do you think she'll like?' he asked a bit fuddled at her enthusiasm.

' Well I have an American friend named Steve.' She looked into his eyes hopefully, ' I tell you what, he has a doll shop here in Japan, with all of cutesy stuff around. I'll give him a call you can get whatever you like. I'll pay for it.'

' Miss Coldstone you don't have to do this for me, honestly.' Shyaron knew he was a bit short in cash and paying her back wasn't an option inviting him with open, affectionate arms. Besides with his poor, shabby looks any respectable shop may give him quizzical looks.

' Please, let me do this for you, Steve doesn't charge much and you don't need to pay back either.' She was looking quite excited at the prospect.

Shyaron looked down at the ground again, ' Ma'am you really don't owe me anything.' He felt those were the right words to say.

' I think in friendships people aren't supposed to owe anything except trust.' She became aware her kindness bemused him, ' Yes, you and I can be friends so it's Valerie ok?' she winked at him.

' Alright.' He was truly radiant, ' Is it ok if I go now I mean I'm pretty much unoccupied…' Li added to himself how worthless his days were: party and drugs all around with the occasional employment which never did last. The diseased world conflicted with his sane one.

' Sure, I'll call him let's give you the address. I know he's open now, it's Tuesday.' She rushed inside as Shyaron waited. He almost fell to the floor as she left.

* * *

' It's nice to see a young man here who's not a typical otaku…' a handsome brunette greeted him, ' Well a girl's birthday. Who's the father?' 

' My friend.' Shyaron noted his environment as he answered with distraction. Anime goodies ranging from titles A to Z and hand workmanship, to stuffed plushies to the irresistibly cute teddy bears bearing romantic slogans. It was very overwhelming, not to mention the tech goodies. It was an accessories store with an unusual name "Clow".

' And is this friend a teenager?' the brunette probed with a scalpel tongue. Not uncomfortable but quite surprising.

' Is it really necessary to know?' Shyaron politely inquired. He wasn't sure if this person was candid or not.

' I'm guessing right then.' His smart observation got the reward. Shyaron cocked his head and sighed.

' He's seventeen.' He stated with a blunt indifference; yet, there was a sign of weakness in his tactic. The other may have picked on it. Not the only issue.

' Let me help you clean up the wound.' The brunette came forward – he was an Adonis, brown strands fashioned in an artistic way – chiseled frame complimented with sky eyes that make women dream of grey-less days on the meadows. The comparison was haunting between the two men – one a servant whilst the other royalty.

' Wound…?' Shyaron stammered with fear bonding with his eyes.

' I don't think you had the chance to clean it up – turn around.' He politely requested only Shyaron stared with a numb sight, ' Ok then.' Shyaron almost yelped as the entrepreneur softly turned his form and lifted his tee, ' I could smell the blood – someone hit you bad, boy…'

' I don't wanna talk about it Mr. Blanchett.' Shyaron shamefully looked at the floor, it seemed more pristine than him.

' The name's Steven or Steve no Misters ok.' He looked over with his illuminating lips, ' You know…' he slowly got hold of Shyaron's wrist ' I should clean this up before you get infected or something.'

They were at the back of the store and Shyaron found himself tee-less and sitting with his anorexic frame exposed for the sole-audience, his benefactor, still a thousand needles-eyes pricked him as he sat with arms crossed as a form of protection. The man said nothing but flinching movements ran rapidly from the victim as Shyaron was emaciated and his wound seemed to hit deeper on his back. The pain was excruciating in a manner and Shyaron closed his eyes momentarily. This was an unexpected cure.

' I bet someone hit you with a cane or something, something curved…' Steven dabbed his cotton onto some chemicals. ' Was it a street-fight?'

' An act of defense.' Shyaron honestly replied; if he had not rescued that woman Louis may have done more.

' I believe it was.' He stated in a genuine insight, ' However…' now a seriousness, ' With your build of bones and skin I think defending isn't good enough either.' There was a pause to which no retort or objection was made, ' Is it worth it?'

' No.' Shyaron realizes the simple truth; he was merely hypnotized by the apocalypse of himself.

' I think you should be going to school.' Steven explained his perceptive in a collected tone.

' I think you should mind your own business.' Shyaron almost snapped but the rudeness was more directed to his own soul. If only he knew a way out he would seize it as one would pure heaven.

' Right now you are a customer at my store.' He cleverly stated, ' **You** **are my business**.'

' Well said.' Shyaron turned around to smile.

' There.' Steven finished stitching the hole-like cute, ' I think Mountain Dew is good enough for a bad day. Wanna have?'

' I don't do softies.' Shyaron suggested his addiction to liquor.

' It's already a hard day something soft would be nice.' Steven matter-of-factly made the decision and went to the kitchen, ' I'll be back in a while.'

Shyaron believed that Steven believed him or who would allow an addict unsupervised in their store and home. At the back of the store was a lavish space where Steven lived. He was sitting in his living room. He thought that he looked around then Steven wouldn't mind so he paced around and walked toward a set of antiques displayed in a open glass case. They were mostly dolls. He looked at some hideously fashioned reminding him of voodoo, whilst others in the Gothic-Lolita fashion and some in traditional Japanese kimonos. One caught his attention. The hues of the dress of the specimen were lurid pink with a crimson bow attached to the front. The attire was a blend of the Victorian-age frock with a cloak like neckline. The frills of the skirt resembled clouds. The artistic strokes of the creature herself was marvelous – Emerald were her eyes and her hair a silky, long, waist-length light bronze with almost an sunlight effect of the wavy-straight combination. He stared at it for an exceedingly long time. His gaze not shifting, almost not blinking; the aura of the wooden apparel called him. The special phenomenon gifted him with a true euphoria in four years time.

' I call that the unnamed maiden.' Steven came back with the drinks, ' My great, great, grandfather acquired it from the English family he stayed with in his London visits.'

' Why do call it that?' Shyaron was truly curious.

' Well, it has been unnamed actually. Funny, no one could name its inventor.' Steven looked apprehensive, ' Although, it's a very special doll.' Mysteriously he looked at Shyaron,  
' You know you could have it for the girl, I think she would like having it.'

Shyaron looked incredulous, ' But didn't you say that one of your past relations has had it, it's like a family treasure.'

' Not exactly.' Steven opened his can and drank while throwing the other can at Shyaron who missed but picked it up from the floor, ' My Grandfather wanted to throw it away so it lost it's value as a family treasure. I keep it as a nostalgic artifact. I think she'll like it.'

' Sonomi will like it alright.' He touched the cap the doll was wearing, ' It's very cute for a doll.'

' That it is.' He chuckled, ' You know what I'll pack for you Li but remember to come again at times, Valerie said good stuff about you and I could need help around the store if you're interested.'

' Thanks, I'll think about the offer.' Shyaron took the doll and smiled at the kind Adonis.

' You know just come back anyway whenever you can.' He candidly informed.

Shyaron looked happily at the doll. How wonderfully ecstatic would little Sonomi be.

* * *

It was when he went home that Shyaron felt the sore of his wound. Steven Blanchett was nothing like his American "fellow" Louis. He was the man of kindness and comprehension. He was grateful to the individual and was most willing to aid him in his store. Hopefully…just hopefully…his addictions would not sever ties once again…that cycle was repeated so many times that it mocked his entire existence.

There was a knock. It was obviously Meiling. Why would she come now, to reconcile? Could it ever grow romance? No, to him it did not.

He opened the door, ' Meiling I –'

He was whipped on the face with a familiar object. It was Louis. ' Where is she?!'

He was whipped again after the question and Shyaron knew who was talking of, ' I don't know!'

' Wrong answer Jap!' he screamed as he hit him a few more times with the cane and Shyaron was weakened by every blow, ' 'Fess up ass-fuck!'

' I said I didn't know!' Shyaron screamed as he broke a glass bottle on the man's head. Louis screamed and thrashed around with the cane which hit the packaged doll and the wrapping tore. He dropped it soon as the glass sting was torturous. Shyaron got his chance. He picked it up and yelled, ' By the way genius I'm Chinese!' he then hit him hard across the face.

The man stumbled out of his doorway and fell down the stairs. He heard Louis grunt as he picked himself up, ' And stay out you freak!'

Shyaron closed the door and bolted it and put his desk as a barricade and sat below it. Nervously, with perspiration and a dry throat he mentally counted. He clutched the former abuser onto his hands. Gripped it so tight so he could bleed some more. For half-hour he gave watch. The clock ticking away signaled the end of the bout.

Shyaron got up and felt his watery, sweaty hair. He felt his adrenalin leave and he collapsed on the floor. His mouth tasted liquid and he knew the blood was still wet. He slowly looked across the floor. The gift with the wrapping ruined.

He gasped and painfully scrambled up to his feet and got it. The wrapping was torn so he had to wrap it again. He was at a breakdown. This life he had chosen offered nothing. He unwrapped the doll and saw its cleansed, pristine appearance. Before he knew it he was at the corner of his room again helpless as he was, two days ago when Meiling stormed out. He really wanted a friend, a companion, he felt dejected and useless. He hugged the doll. Incoherent that he might get blood on it. He pressed his lips on it, unknowingly, praying to God Almighty for a sanctuary.

It was then, there was a glow. Shyaron felt unmoved at first but felt the doll move. It was so awkward that he looks at the apparel. The wooden eyes moved…

Shyaron screamed in the dark and threw the wooden doll across the floor. It started to flinch as it were in pain and shake as if it were breaking away from something. The wood then started breaking off and soon the doll was covered into two large angel wings. Shyaron, paralyzed with fear, just looked in disbelief. Then as the feathers were gone a young girl maybe slightly older than him stood before him with closed eyes.

She opened them and Shyaron shrieked and looked bewildered beyond his wildest dreams. The girl examined him, ' You bought me today…at the store…'

' What do you want?!' he screamed at the foreign entity as she looked around.

' You live in such a shabby, damp place…' she scanned her atmosphere as she politely stated, ' Are you sure it's healthy for you…Mr. Shyaron right…that's what Steve called you…'

' Get away!' Shyaron scrambled as best as he could towards his door but he fell in agony, his new wounds were the reason.

' Blood…' the girl touched her lips, ' You kissed me that broke my seal…a tainted man…now I remember…a man who feels insignificant…but wait…blood!' she saw his lips, ' Oh dear you're bloody and so is your body, it's almost as if you have been on a war-path!'

' Stay away…' Shyaron whispered as she approached him.

' Please allow me to help you I'm Sakura Kinomoto Bride of the great sorcerer Clow Reed…' she introduced herself hoping to calm him, ' I'm human as you believe me!'

' No stay away! Stay…' he lost his strength and lost consciousness.

' Oh dear…' Sakura sat down and put his head on his lap, she noticed then that he without any upper garment so his chest and abdomen were exposed, ' You look like a sick child!' she gasped, ' Clow Reed, what was I thinking! You'll not know a man dead for a thousand years, my exile…' she stated softly then brushed his hair, ' Don't worry I'll nurse you to health in no time.'

The Angel guiding the living-dead back to life: Of Wood and Flesh the sanctuary is built under God's command.

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**Author's Note:** I hope you like the story tell me what you think.

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